Making Up
by SSJL
Summary: Sometimes even grownups need a lesson in how to make up.  Esp. BB, right?


**A/N: Most of my readers know how much I adore writing that naughty little epic on the "M" side of this site. But I gotta say that these fluffy little oneshots are just like candy to me…I could write 'em all day!**

**Don't y'all think the show could do with a little more Parker/B/B interaction? I think so. Um…obviously;-) Your reading and reviewing makes my world go 'round!**

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He had been trying to keep his voice down, but it was just _so hard _when she was being so infuriating. What made her think that she was entitled, with absolutely no police training, to accompany him in the most dangerous of fieldwork tomorrow? Or ever? What had started off as a slightly heated bargaining session had escalated into angry wordwar, conducted at an intensity that was only possible among two, highly stubborn individuals. Voices were raised; insults were hurled. He was pretty sure that 'arrogant misogynistic jerk' and 'narcissistic brainiac bone-duster' made an appearance a few times. Of course, by that time, he had sort of forgotten that he had sent his five-year-old son to the other room while he had what was supposed to be a rational, _adult _discussion with Dr. Brennan about the case they were working on. Well, the best-laid plans…

With all the loud discussion, it seemed ironic that it was the quiet "Daddy?" from the other side of the room that made them nearly jump out of their skin. Oh, _shoot. _He always tried to teach his son the proper ways to resolve differences of opinion. '_Really _great role model you're being there, Seeley,' he told himself with a mental slap to the forehead. 'And great job letting this woman get under your skin again. How the _hell _does she always do that?'

Both parties looked a little guilty. "Hey, buddy." He knelt down by his son. "Were we being too loud? We'll quiet down, okay?"

Parker ignored him. "Daddy…do you and Dr. Brennan hate each other?"

If he hadn't known his son to be so guileless, he would have suspected that he was _trying _to make him feel guiltier. "No, son. Of course we don't hate each other." He shot Bones a look: _'Do you see what you did?,' _he shot telepathically. She glared in return: _'Don't even think about pinning this one on me, buddy.'_

His son looked concerned. "Because you were being really mean to each other."

"We were just frustrated, Park. You can be frustrated with someone without hating them." Booth sighed. "Actually, you can be frustrated with someone, even though you really like them a lot."

He looked to Bones for support, and she nodded emphatically at the child for good measure. "He's right."

Parker looked unconvinced. "Still…you should probably apologize."

Poor kid. He didn't realize what he was asking them to do. Neither adult's forte was eating crow. In fact, there were few things more painful for them.

Booth gritted his teeth. Sometimes, being a father meant doing things differently than what felt natural, just to model what was right. No matter how painful it was, by gosh he was just going to have to take one for the team on this one.

He smiled a tight, fake smile. "Bones…really sorry. For the…you know…yelling and stuff."

She nodded quickly. "Me too."

They both looked at Parker hopefully. He looked back at them as if they had grown extra heads. "That is _not _how you do it." He took his father's hand. "Don't you remember how to do it? Here, I'll help you." He dragged Booth over to his partner.

"Okay, daddy. Say you're sorry. Like you _mean _it. Then say what for."

God, he wished he didn't know what was coming. "Dr. Brennan…I'm sorry…_really _sorry," he amended at his son's nudge, "that I raised my voice."

"You did more than raise your voice," Parker reminded.

"That I raised my voice and…said mean things." Brennan raised her eyebrows in amusement at his words. "You are not a narcissistic brainiac bone duster. All of the time."

"Now, say something nice," his son continued.

Oh…oh, it _hurt_. "You are actually really good at what you do, and I admire and respect it a lot. I admire and respect _you _a lot."

A touch of a smile came to her lips. That was nice.

He couldn't resist. "And you always look really great in that blue lab coat," he said, dripping with sincerity. "Really hot stuff."

Her eyes narrowed, and he beamed. Oblivious, his son turned to her. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Surprised, her eyes widened. She didn't realized _she _would have to take part in this particular exercise. "Oh…I don't know…"

"Say you're sorry, and why," she was prompted.

Her cheeks became tinged with a lovely pink color. "Um…I'm sorry, Booth…that I was a little…overenthusiastic in representing my point of view, and for calling you derogatory names. That was…unprofessional."

"Something nice, now."

She searched her mind. "Well…your hair looks good today." He would have grinned, if he was sure that she wasn't making fun of him. "And I guess it's nice that you are concerned about my safety. Even though you _shouldn't _be so worried, because you know I can take care of myself. That's why we make such a good team—we're _both _good at what we do."

Both a little flushed, now, they again looked at Parker, hoping that this would satisfy him.

"Good," he said. They smiled in relief.

"Now hug."

They looked at each other witheringly. This was apparently not going to be over until they were humiliated completely.

"Hug," the little boy insisted. "The sorries don't mean as much if you don't hug."

She was blushing more furiously than ever, and Booth felt sure that she had had enough of complying with a five-year-old's demands. She surprised him by marching up to him resolutely and wrapping her arms around him tightly. Her face turned into his neck, and he felt a little thrill run through him at her breath on his ear. He smiled.

"Don't you think this means we aren't going to have this discussion later, Booth." Her voice carried whisper-soft into his ear, so that Parker couldn't hear. Oh, Bones. Why couldn't she just put down those defenses and enjoy the moment?

He threaded his fingers into her hair and tilted her head so she could hear his whispered reply, and he was gratified when she shivered a bit. "I'm fairly sure this means the discussion is over. Unless you would like to hire my son to be our mediator and follow us around to make sure we are being fair."

Her fingers clenched tightly into his back. "Just because I'm willing to make nice with you right now for Parker doesn't mean I'm going to let you relegate me to sidekick status," she hissed. "You don't have to like me. You just have to treat me as an equal."

Pulling her to him more tightly, he whispered, "If I thought of you as a sidekick, do you think I would have involved you in every one of my murder cases since we started working together? And if I didn't like you, do you think I would have humiliated myself just now just to prove to Parker that we are okay?"

The death grip on his back relaxed a little bit…just a little. "Then prove it."

He knew she meant for him to give her free reign over their cases, and _that _wasn't going to happen. Surprisingly, however, he didn't feel the urge to reply with something smart-ass. He didn't know what to do, which still didn't explain why what he did next was press a gentle kiss to her temple. "I don't know how."

"Um, guys? You can stop hugging now."

Damn. It was the second time in the past 15 minutes that he had been distracted from his son's presence. They pulled apart, for the second time looking at Parker guiltily.

"Okay, now you know how to do it. Now you don't have to fight anymore." The boy looked pleased with himself, and he headed back to his room. Before going in, he paused and looked back at the two thoughtfully.

"Maybe you wouldn't fight so much if you weren't stubborn like mules." He went into his room.

The partners looked at one another for awhile, not speaking. Finally: "Did you teach him that?"

"The making-up part, I had a hand in. But the mule part? Nope."

"Huh," she said. She was quiet for a moment. "He's a good kid, you know. Smart."

"Yeah." There was a pause. "Do you ever get the feeling that he's smarter than we are?"

She looked at him blankly. "Booth. He's five."

"Yeah. And he already knows more about making up than we do."

A big sigh left her. "I suppose, in some ways, both of us could do with growing up a little."

He smiled. "Well…do you suppose that a smug misogynistic jerk and a narcissistic brainiac bone-duster could figure out how to play nice with one another?"

"Maybe. If the jerk shares his toys a little more often." He opened his mouth to protest, and she quickly finished the thought. "And the narcissist manages to be a little less uptight."

"Agreed. Friends again?" In response, she shook his hand and smiled at him. He ushered her out the door. "And by the way…you can come along tomorrow. But you are staying in the car." He shut the door before she could get out more than an indignant gasp.

Something told him that despite their reconciliation, he was going to feel the urge to fight with her even more often now.

Just so they could make up.


End file.
